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Lithium and Mercury	By : BleedingStarGoddess Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Lucius Views: 53045 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
Title:
Lithium and Mercury

Chapter: 2/?

Author: Bleeding Star Goddess (aka BSG) and can be contacted at
Toqkid@aol.com or Satarian@aol.com

Pairing:� Severus/Harry, Lucius/Harry,
Lucius/Severus, and later but one-sided suggestions of Draco/Harry

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and
owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury
Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and
Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no
copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Warnings: This story will contain adult themes such as child abuse,
character angst, abstract ideas, pedophilia, mental insanity/instability, and
chain-slash, Domination/Submission relationships, blood play, murder, and
slavery.� There
are strong sexual relationships of the homosexual nature, and gore.� This story is AU and does not contain any
spoilers to the sixth book.� You have
been warned.

+++

Chapter
02:� Black and White

Life,
no matter whose life, is a routine and rarely is the daily cycle broken.� And for Freak, when he lived with the Dursley
family, he already had a cycle.� Get up,
clean the kitchen, make the Dursleys' breakfast,
start folding the laundry, go back and then clean off the table and do the
dishes.� It was from there that the
routine changed although not by much, in fact, it could still be said that the
routine didn't change at all for he still did chores, it was just that the
chores varied.� In between those chores
Freak was to fix the Dursleys' lunch and dinner.� It was only after all the chores were
finished that Petunia Dursley dragged him upstairs, and made him use the
lavatory and shower.� When he was done,
she would give him stale bread, warm water, and cold cabbage soup for dinner
before he was locked into his cupboard for the rest of the night only to be
released once more to make their breakfast.

This,
Freak had believed, would have been his daily routine for the rest of his life,
until the day he died (probably in his cupboard no less).� After all, that sort of life was all Freak could have expected as a beast.

And
then, Harry's Masters rescued him and completely and utterly destroyed that
routine and even the family that had created it.

They
had told Freak the truth on his second night within his new home.� They had told Harry that the Dursleys' were filthy creatures called muggles.� Harry's Masters had told him what he was,
that he was a wizard and that magic was his to wield and control (with his
Masters' permission first).

And
when it had all truly started, when his new life in Master Severus' manor was a
wave crashing down upon Freak - now named Harry - he had had his world torn out
from under his feet.� Everything had
changed, and to Freak, not for the better.

The
House Elves did the chores that Freak always did, and it would insult the
charming creatures if he tried to take their tasks from them.� His Masters' had also explained to Freak,
that as he belonged to them, he had worth, and Freak had had his mind shattered
by the mere thought that he was valued.�
Freak, before he completely became Harry, had difficulty accommodating
to any of the things Harry's Masters required.�
Freak could not sleep within the bed or the room that Master Severus
provided.� Freak needed to do chores for
there was nothing else that Freak thought he could do, and Freak most certainly
couldn't accept that he had worth.

But
children are amazing beings, no matter how shattered or broken they may be,
they are still resilient.� And poor
shattered Freak made Harry, Freak made Harry adaptable; he made Harry to be
able to provide everything the Masters needed.�
Freak relinquished all control to Harry and, in return, Harry protected
Freak.� He secreted him away in the back
of his mind, guarding him with walls and locks and mazes.

So
when Harry had gone up to his Masters, the two adults that Harry knew were to
be his world forever, and had said "My name is Harry and Freak is asleep
now" his Masters had merely gazed upon him calmly, assessing what was
before them before introducing themselves as his Masters.� His Masters had also told him that Harry was
not only Harry, but also their pet.� And
Freak having made Harry to be adaptable understood the role of possession that
was placed upon him.

Harry,
unlike Freak, could accept (though always humbly) whatever his Masters gave
him.� He could accept the room and the
food from Master Severus.� Harry could
accept the entire wardrobe Master Lucius had tailored for him.� Harry could accept the kisses and their
blatantly sinful caresses.� And Harry
knew that later in life, he would have to recognize what would be expected from
his body and this too Harry could accept.

But for all that
Harry could tolerate, could withstand, could adapt too to fulfill the desires
of his Masters, he did not love them.�

Oh, he certainly
tried, he wanted to love his Masters, but it was not a simple matter of
wanting.� It was a matter that Harry couldn't
love, and not just his Masters, but anyone.�
It was the one shard, the one aspect of Freak that had pierced Harry and
had tainted him.�

But with any life,
no matter the life be you king or pauper, a routine forms, and in this, Harry -
like Freak - had developed one as well.

It was not an
obvious routine, as Freak's had been.�
Harry woke leisurely, though early, and he would have breakfast wherever
he chose in the Manor, be it the garden, the veranda, anywhere except where
permission was required.� Eventually, one
of the elves would inform him that Master Severus had awoken, and Harry,
regardless of having finished breakfast or not, would go towards his Master's
wing.� He would silently open the door
before slipping through it and once in the massive chambers he would wait
patiently until his Master bid him further entrance.� Once it was granted he would go where ordered
and kneel.�

This was all by
Harry's violation and something he had instated.� His Masters had never required such strict
obedience, however, Harry knew better.�
He knew they preferred it, enjoyed it, because Harry knew his Masters'
whims better than they knew it themselves, for Freak had made him that
way.� Harry had to know their instant
whims, had to know what to anticipate, and had to be able to read them better
than they could read each other.�

His Masters - to
one another - allowed the masks to slip, however slight for they were joined in
their goals and their sins.� But to
Harry, to their pet, the cold unfeeling masks remained tightly in place and
even walls of thick metal were added.

The walls and the
masks were always on around Harry even when they kissed him and because of it,
chills ran down his spine and made his stomach sick.

Once Master
Severus was finished with his breakfast and reading the paper, he would leave
his rooms and Harry would follow, treading a few feet behind.� Master Severus would stop at the main dueling
hall and enter it, and - as was expected of him - Harry was to wait before
entering.� Once he did enter, Master
Severus would attack with a curse or a jinx, and Harry was to respond
appropriately, be it casting a shield or if it was a particularly strong spell,
Harry would summon an item to take the burden.�
He was not, however, allowed to dodge out of the way.

From there, his
Master would decide what he would work on, sometimes Potions, mostly dueling
and charms.� Master Lucius had told Harry
that his darker Master was one of the best dark duelist
and the best Potions Master of this age.� A Master Severus brewed potion was highly
coveted and sickly expensive.

Harry never
questioned or thought it odd that his Masters' used wands and words to casts
the spells while he used only thought and his hands.� He did not question it because it simply
meant his Masters' were more powerful than him.�
Harry understood on a level that was not expected of him that while he
held worth as "pet" if he were left on his own, despite the deaths of
the Dursley family, he would once more be without value.� If Harry, always adaptable Harry, was
stripped of the title "pet" he would be as meaningless as Freak had
been.� He was not stronger, wiser, or
greater than his Masters, and to wish to be would be pointless.

From the initial
attack on his darker Master's behalf, things varied greatly.� If his response to the curse or jinx was
unsatisfactory, Harry would continue to duel Master Severus until his Master
had him pinned down to the floor or wall.�
It was the rare occasion that they dueled for so long that Harry would
faint.� Master Severus would always catch
him for he felt no pain upon waking and was surrounded by his Master's warmth.

If his response
was satisfactory or once the duel was over, Master Severus or Master Lucius (or
both) would teach him something new, some new spell and hand movements.��

These times Harry
enjoyed the most for it was when he was learning the new curses and jinxes that
his Masters' praised him in their special sort of ways.� His Masters were most pleased when he would
demonstrate quick understanding of the darker curses, the skin flaying curse,
the slashing curse, he had an arsenal at the tips of his fingers yet his
Masters' gave him the strictest instructions.�
Always in defense pet, they warned, always.�

And adaptable
Harry understood, although not completely, but it was an order from his Masters
and it was to be obeyed.

Sometimes his
Masters would teach him other things as well; like Master Lucius would teach
him history or Master Severus would instruct him in Potions.� Whenever he was to do potions his darker master
bemoaned that he lacked natural instinct for it, but - told in no uncertain
terms - that he would be adequate.� Harry
enjoyed the art (as Master Severus always demand he call it), it reminded him
of cooking and while adaptable Harry had never cooked, Freak had, and Freak had
enjoyed it despite all the negative memories attached to it.�

On the rarer
occasions, neither of his Masters would educate him, but instead a beautiful
ivory woman, a woman of silk and pearl, a woman he was always to address as the
Lady Malfoy unless she instructed otherwise would teach him proper
etiquette.� What she taught him was
nothing like Petunia Dursley had tried to smack into Freak, and Harry
understood it was because Petunia Dursley had been a muggle.� But like all things, adaptable Harry picked
up on what was being taught to him quickly and Lady Malfoy was greatly pleased.

Harry liked Master
Lucius' wife, the Lady Malfoy had a sharp wit and a grace in every movement
that was just like his pearl-eyed Master.�
And from what he could read from her movements, her tone and the things
she didn't say, she liked him as well.�
When their etiquette lessons would end Master Lucius would come in and
smile at Lady Malfoy and only her before he ordered Harry to leave.

Sometimes, as he
was getting up and heading towards the door, Harry would observe his lighter
Master running his hands through the Lady Malfoy's long tresses, a smile on his
lips and adoration in both their eyes.�
When he intruded on those moments he quickly averted his eyes and
quickened his pace as he would rub his chest.�
So, that was love, adaptable Harry, no matter how hard he tried,
couldn't love but he could appreciate it, could understand when he saw it no
matter how many times he saw it.�

When those times
happened Master Severus was just outside the door and he would gaze at pet with
a blank face before putting a hand against the small of his back and would lead
him away as words, "This way Harry" would roll across him and soothe
the ache.

It was when Lady
Malfoy came that Severus would sit with him outside for lunch, would feed pet
with his skilled fingers as pet sat beside him, being bathed in his dark
Master's undivided attention.� If the
Lady Malfoy wasn't teaching him that certain day than his lighter Master would
be with him and then he was the center of both their worlds as hands would run
down his body soothingly or in praise.

After lunch,
whether Lady Malfoy visited or not, his lessons would be continued, sometimes
it was theory, which his darker Master would always teach, or Transfiguration
which the Lady Malfoy would also instruct him in as she excelled in that
art.� It was also the Lady Malfoy and his
fairer Master that taught him numbers and writing, but it was the Lady Malfoy
alone that would glide with him as she trained him in the art of dance.

When all lessons,
no matter what had been taught that day, were over the routine would continue
and they would have dinner.� If the Lady
Malfoy was with them then Harry was to sit at the table, to remain silent until
spoken too but adored by all the adults at the table in ways that most would
miss.� It was revealed in the ways Lady
Malfoy would tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear and put an extra dessert
on his plate.� It was the way his darker
Master teased him about his potion skills and his fairer Master would come to
his rescue when Harry couldn't reply with a witty enough answer.� Or when his darker Master would put more food
on his plate with a simple look of 'you are to eat but don't eat so much you get
sick'.�

If the Lady Malfoy
wasn't there after a day of lessons then he would sit on the floor between his
Master's feet and they would feed him with their fingers and once he took the
food from them those very same fingers would trail along his cheeks and
neck.� Once dinner was completed, whether
the Lady Malfoy was there or not, his Masters went to the study where he was never to go unless given the strictest
permission.�

When his Masters
left the rest of the night was his to do as he pleased and then he would wake
in one of his Masters' arms, probably having fallen asleep from whatever he had
been doing.� They would tuck him in and
kiss his cheeks, his hands his shoulders and then to sleep he went, drowning in
the sea of silk and cotton that was his bed.

For three years
this was his routine; clothed in finery, educated extensively, and allowed to
be the center of attention in the minds of the three most beautiful adults
Harry had ever known.� But his masters
never persisted to certain routines long.�
To do so would have made them predictable and to be predictable was
dangerous and foolish.

So it was not a
surprise to Harry - who understood his Masters better than perhaps themselves -
when his Master Lucius informed him that he was to meet his fair Master's son,
the young Lord Draco, and adaptable Harry accepted it willingly.�

He had been given
orders of the sternest nature by both Masters.�
He was to treat Draco with respect but remain friendly.� The young Lord Draco was not to know that
Harry was a pet because Harry belonged to only his fair and dark Masters, no
one else.� Harry was made to understand
that even though he could never equal in status like young Lord Draco or Lady
Malfoy to his Masters, he was still of high worth, he belonged to the proud Malfoy
and the sharp Snape families.� Adaptable
Harry was pet; adaptable Harry would always remain
pet.

His Masters asked
if he understood.� Of course he did, he
was adaptable Harry, and Freak had made him to mold and shift and change to fit
all of his Masters' needs.� Harry
understood because his Masters' required that he comprehend his orders and his
status.

So the night
before h was to meet young Lord Draco, when Harry was tucked into bed by a
bubbly house elf he was filled with an emotion he couldn't name.� It wasn't love; he knew he could never feel
love.� It was like� like fear but not as
harsh, not as scary.� Harry tried to
sleep, to let the sea of his covers submerge him in the arms of sleep and
dreams, but he merely tossed and turned, seeking the blissful drowning but
unable to obtain it.

Finally he sat up,
throwing the covers off of him and putting on a shirt over his sleeping pants
as well as slippers as he sought out his darker Master.�

He took the
quickest route, making haste through the secret passages he had found in his
three year stay.� He rounded the corner,
the cold of the marble floors still seeping through the thin cloth of his
slippers.�

The large redwood
doors of his Master's chambers came into view and he knocked on the door,
shifting from foot-to-foot, waiting to be bid entrance.� It came in a soft and yet deep
"enter" that Harry acted upon quickly as he slipped through the door
and bit his lip as he waited by the door.

When his Master
looked up from his book and saw him a small flash of surprise and concern
streaked across those shielded onyx orbs.

"Harry?"

"Master I
think I become ill."

His dark Master
took off his glasses and set his book down, gesturing for his pet to come to
his bedside.� Harry complied quickly, his
body wound-up tight.� He gasped when his
Master easily lifted him off the carpet and onto the bed.� Cold hands that Harry could watch for hours
as they worked their art in potion's making rested against his forehead and
cheek before feeling his chest and neck.�
Finally the calming ebony orbs gazed into Harry's own.

"Now why do
you think you have come down with something pet?"

"I -- well,
maybe not sick, but something!" he whispered as he gazed right back,
willing his Master to know what he had because he didn't like this turning in
his stomach.� His Master just gazed at
him as he raised an inquiring brow; it was all the prompting Harry needed.� "I-I can't sleep and my stomach feels
funny, as if someone tied it in knots.�
I'm all sweaty but I'm not hot and I can't stop moving!"

"So I've
noticed," his Master chuckled, catching his hands that had been pulling at
a string in the blankets.� His dark
Master looked at him, the sides of his lips twitching upwards in amusement.

"And when did
this start?"

"Today, I
think."

His Master ran his
hands through Harry's hair and then down the back of Harry's neck, resting it
against the space between his shoulder blades, tracing imaginary and pointless
patterns in the cloth.

"Am I sick
Master?"

"No Harry,
no," he whispered as he gently ran his designs down to the small of his
pet's back.� "Not sick."

"Then what is
it I have?"

His Master leaned
in close, trailing his other hand along the bridge of his nose and up to his
pale scar before bringing the pads of his fingers to run over Harry's chapped
licks.

"It is
commonly known as excitement, anticipation, or eagerness, take your pick
pet."

Harry turned his
head a bit, his nose touching his Master's, a blush staining his cheeks.� He had heard the words, knew what they meant,
but he had never felt them, not in his life of a daily - though somewhat
shifting - routine (no matter how privileged he was to have such a
lifestyle).� So, this was anticipation,
and it existed for the young Lord Draco.

"I'll go back
to bed now," he whispered but those long nimble fingers stilled him as
they rested against his hip.

"No
pet," his dark Master whispered as he let a small kiss linger on Harry's
lips, "you'll sleep here tonight."

Harry gasped, his
eyes widening.� He had never slept in his
Master's bed!� Not even when the
nightmares grew too great or the whispering shadows beside his fire place grew
too loud.

"Ma-Master?"
he squeaked and when he heard the noise he prayed that that truly wasn't his voice.�

Master Severus
chuckled before helping Harry remove his over-shirt; his pet seemed to
over-heat in his sleep if anything more than a blanket was atop the boy's
torso.

Harry smiled up at
his Master, as he was wrapped up in those cooling arms and as they both slipped
further under the covers.� The lights
were extinguished and Harry fell asleep with his head resting on his Master's
strong chest that rose with deep breaths and a steady heartbeat beneath his
ear.� Tomorrow and the young Lord Draco
could wait; Harry just wanted this moment to last a little longer.

+++

Yes, the next chapter is finally up,
though expect me to be editing it from time to time.
- 2
- 3
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Lithium and Mercury